


Better Off

by jasmineisland



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gen, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-01
Updated: 2013-06-01
Packaged: 2017-12-13 15:49:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,821
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/826035
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jasmineisland/pseuds/jasmineisland
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for the h/c bingo on lj.<br/>Sam gets one chance to change things and fix them. He can only hope it’s the right thing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Better Off

[h/c bingo card](http://jasmineisland.livejournal.com/3483.html)

Title:  Better Off

Prompt: Time Travel Gone Wrong

Characters: Sam Dean John

Warning: none

Word Count: 1784

Summary: Sam gets one chance to change things and fix them. He can only hope it’s the right thing.  
  


Seemed pretty simple to Sam. The demon had been well versed in time travel and had offered to give Sam a shot at fixing ‘anything he wanted to do over’ in exchange for not being sent to hell. Several hundred possibilities shot through Sam’s mind in an instant. But the one thing that he really believed would change anything was THAT night. The night that the Demon had finally made himself known to the Winchesters. A car accident that had taken Dean from him and resulted in Dad throwing himself into the pit to save him.

In an instant, Sam was in the driver’s seat of the Impala, John and Dean along with him. Dean was hurt, but it wasn’t life threatening. IF Sam managed to avoid the tractor trailer that had caused the brain damage. Without a word to either of the other men, Sam searched his mind for the right moment to change his direction to avoid the crash. Headlights appeared and  Sam knew it was now or never. Slamming his foot as far down on the brakes as he could, Sam wrenched the wheel and turned the car. The truck blew past them and Sam heaved a sigh of relief. But he knew that was only part of the problem. A demon was still behind the wheel. The truck almost jack-knifed coming to a halt, but Sam was already out of the car and running towards it. As the driver/demon got out, Sam was ready. Within seconds he was spitting the Latin as fast as he could. A cloud of black smoke billowing from the driver’s mouth was enough for Sam. Quickly he pulled his cell phone from his pocket and called 911.

The demon had warned Sam that as soon as the ‘event’ had been changed he would be ripped from that time and returned to his own. “To whatever you’ve created- live with it” were the exact words. Seemed to Sam that demons really did tell the truth on occasion. He disconnected with the 911 operator and closed the phone when everything went black for a split second. When he could see again, he looked around the room and tried to figure out where he was.

The room wasn’t large, but the décor confused Sam. He was in a wheelchair, which told him a hospital, but a large TV on the wall, pale blue walls, king-sized bed that seemed to take up about half of the room. Definitely not the standard patch and release institutions they were used to. For a few moments, Sam just took in his surroundings, trying to figure out what kind of trouble he’d gotten into. He realized that Dean wasn’t there, but maybe he’d gone for coffee, or food. Sunlight told Sam it was at least daytime, but nothing else. Deciding to call his brother, Sam tried to stand. Confusion, then panic took over when he realized that his legs were not responding to his commands.  Finally he pushed himself up and was only more panicked when his legs did nothing more than crumble and drop him to the ground.

Had he been captured? Was he injured from a hunt? Where was his brother? With no pockets in his sweats, he dragged himself to the table beside the bed, hoping to find his cell phone. Fortunately, he was tall enough that his arms could reach across the small table from the floor and he grabbed his cell.

Dean picked up after a few rings.

“Sam.” Dean’s voice was flat, but Sam could hear hesitation in his brother’s voice.

“Dean! Where are you?”

“Still in Oklahoma, why?”

“Oklahoma?” By the way Dean said it, Sam got the feeling it was a long way from wherever he was. Taking a moment, the younger man tried to figure out what was going on that Dean wasn’t anywhere near him while he was in a wheelchair. “When are you coming back?”

No answer came.

“Dean?”

“I’m here, Sam. I just…… you know Dad would have a fit if he knew I came by without him and you know it.”

“Dad would-“ Sam’s breath caught in his throat. Whatever he’d managed to change, Dad was alive here. “I just want to see you.”

“I know. I…. I can’t. Not right now.”

“You’re on a hunt?”

“I don’t have time for this. Did you take your meds? You know you get confused without them, dude.”

“Meds?”

“Goddammit, Sam. Protections won’t do jack shit if you let them get in your head. You fucking know it. You know what Dad will do if you don’t do what you’re supposed to.”

The unmistakable anger in Dean’s voice made Sam hesitate. Hurt flowed through him and he struggled to figure out why Dean was so angry. “I’m sorry.”

“Whatever, Sam. I gotta go. Dad or I will check in next month.” The line went dead.

Next month? Sam dropped the phone next to him on the floor. Realization crept over him. Whatever had happened, he and Dean were obviously not close. He was stuck in a hospital for at least another month, paralyzed, and his family was off hunting. Okay.

Deep breath. Suddenly everything seemed to white out and Sam felt the floor beneath his back. Images flashed before his eyes and he couldn’t keep up. Hunting with Dean and John, running, screaming, falling, pain.

When he opened his eyes, he was shocked to find himself in bed, with an IV attached to his arm. His memories were hazier now, like looking through water at his life. Somewhere in the back of his mind, Sam realized that his memories of his original life was trying to merge with whatever memories he would have now. It confused him and he looked around for some way to call someone. There had to be others around, more than one, since they’d apparently lifted his body from the ground to the bed.

He wondered how long he’d been under, and reached for the TV remote. Hopefully he could get some idea of what was going on by the news. As he turned the channels, the door opened.

The figure at the door shocked Sam into silence. John moved to him purposely and stared at him with an anger that Sam had never seen from his father.

“Christo.”

“What?”

Speaking in Latin, John moved closer and Sam got a better view of his father. A large scar ran down his face, jagged and vicious looking. His hair was thinner, and much whiter then Sam had remembered.  It was an exorcism, but not one Sam had ever heard before. When he finished, John stood a short distance from the bed. The urge to reach out to his father had Sam nearly in tears.

“Don’t give me that, Sam. You know the rules and you broke them.”

“Sir?”

“After everything, are you trying to make me regret not letting you die?”

Now the tears fell. He’d known his father’s last words to Dean, but they’d been some abstract thing that tormented Dean. To hear his father’s voice utter those words was more than he could take.

“I make sure you’re taken care of. I make sure you have everything you need. The only thing you have to do is take your medication and NOT CONTACT US!”

Sam realized that Dean had told John he’d called. “I’m sorry. I got confused.”

“You what?!” Moving closer, John actually gripped Sam’s chin and stared at him. “Any visions? Telekinesis? God Dammit, Sam, what the fuck did  you do now?”

“I called Dean! That’s it! I swear to God-“

John’s hand crossed his face with a sharp slap. “Don’t you say that. Your fucking God is a yellow eyed demon, and I know it!”

Now Sam began to cry. “What happened, Dad? What happened to me?”

“Son of a bitch!” John began to pace. “I keep telling myself that you’re my son. That you’re Mary’s son. But he got to you. You helped open the gates to Hell, and I should have shot you right then and there. Should have left you there when your buddy Azazel tried to kill you. But your brother begged me to try to save you. Try to get you back. But you can’t do one simple fucking thing. You’re going to get him killed and I won’t have it, Sam.”

For the first time since arriving, Sam saw something besides anger on John’s face. It was anguish. “I can’t let this go on anymore. I lost my baby when Azazel came to his nursery. I know that. I lost my wife that same night. I almost lost my only remaining son trying to get you back. We can’t keep doing this. It will hurt, but he’ll move on. He’ll never know that I had to do this.”

Sam’s vision whited out again. This time he saw it. Visions, leading him to Cold Oak. Ava telling him about the switches, but Jake being the one to force him to ‘flip them’. Azazel had come to him, threatening to kill John and Dean if Sam didn’t go along with his plans. The gateway to hell in Wyoming. It had been him in this timeline. John and Dean had tried to stop him, but Azazel had gotten to him first, throwing him into the fence surrounding the property. Instead of a knife in his spine killing him, it had been a wrought iron fence that snapped his spine. Paralyzing him. But John had seen it all. He had put Azazel’s plan together and found Sam lying there, bloody and half dead. It was Dean in this timeline as well that had killed the yellow eyed demon, but the damage was done. Already suspicious of Sam’s loyalty, this was the final straw for his father. A new memory of his father standing over him, fully prepared to watch him die, while Dean pleaded with him in the background to let him live. Being brought here. Not a hospital. A cell. With spells, sigils, and salt to keep Azazel’s followers out. Sedatives to keep the demons out of his mind and his powers dormant.

When Sam’s vision returned, he wasn’t surprised to see that John had the colt pointed at his head. “Dad-“

Tears fell from both men’s eyes.

“Dean still believes his Sammy is in there somewhere. If he’s right I hope he’ll forgive me.”

As the gun went off, Sam wondered if he’d really made things better. John was alive, Dean hadn’t gone to hell, but what had become of them? If they were better off, dying didn’t seem like too much of a price to pay.

  



End file.
